Page 6 of A Very Un-Shakespeare Romance
Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he turned it off and took out the sim card. He wasn’t going to help the Kellys by letting them track him through his cell phone. Tara had clearly paid attention all these years when he’d talked about cases, way more than he’d ever imagined.
When he looked up, her little girls were staring at every move he made, as still as small china doll statues. The cat looked like a stuffed animal. “Girls, are you hungry? Thirsty? Because I need to make a few calls on this new phone your mom bought me before we take off. But good news. You remember my brothers, Billie and Tim, don’t you? Billie’s the big giant of the O’Connor clan, the one no one messes with, and Tim’s the really nice guy who helps older people at the retirement home.”
Poor things both nodded quickly, their eyes as wide as saucers.
“Good news. They’re going on the adventure with us.”
Because he was going to need some serious backup for this case.
CHAPTERTWO
Her heart was gallopinglike a herd of wild horses.
Lily Meadows shifted in her seat next to her partner, trying to ignore the feeling that the metal sides of their undercover vehicle were closing in on her. They’d lost their suspect.
How in the hell had Tara O’Connor given them the slip? When her boss found out, Lily’s desire for the promotion to the FBI’s Child Exploitation and Human Trafficking Task Force would be dead in the water.
She wanted to bang her head on the steering wheel in frustration, but that would be childish. Unprofessional. She might be the polar opposite of the stereotypical alpha, tough-guy FBI agent, but she was a seasoned field agent. She went undercover frequently. Faced down dangerous criminals. Prepared for every eventuality.
How had she blown it?
Lily had judged Tara O’Connor to be a good mother, but she’d just left her two children alone.At a gym.Those adorable little girls had been abandoned by the person who was supposed to love and cherish them the most. That kind of shit left scars. She knew from personal experience.
“Are youwheezing?” Sheila Morales was known for being one of the most wise-cracking, prank-playing agents in FBI circles, but when she put on her drill sergeant tone, people’s spines straightened. “Pull it together, Sunshine. I know this looks bad, but don’t make me get out a paper bag. I’d feel obligated to take a photo of you sucking in air on surveillance and pin it up in the break room.”
That helped her get her breathing under control. She got enough ragging as it was for having a last name like Meadows and looking like the girl next door, an asset in undercover work. Add in the kernel of positivity she felt toward life despite everything in her past, and she’d been given the nickname Sunshine. Sheila had even given her aYou are my SunshineT-shirt for their softball games as well as a key chain, which she used for her apartment in Chelsea, an easy commute to FBI headquarters.
“You even think about telling anyone I wheezed, Sheila, and I’ll tell everyone how you forgot to shave your girly parts on your last undercover gig when you were supposed to be a stripper.”
“Almost blew my cover because of a bush.” Her partner’s rough laugh erupted in the hot car. “It was a last-minute assignment, and I still blame the head of the task force for forgetting to include that detail about my outfit in my undercover packet.”
Lily couldn’t even manage a smile as her gaze cut back to the parking garage they were surveilling. “We’re so screwed, Sheila.”
Sheila turned in her seat, and Lily focused on her grounding presence. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, showing off dangling gold earrings. She wore minimal makeup and nude lipstick. Her pantsuit was all black with serviceable ankle boots she could run in. They’d been partners since Lily had been transferred to Boston six months ago. Sheila was the more senior agent, having been in the Bureau for ten years in comparison to Lily’s five. Her experience in the field came through in moments like this, and Lily nodded to tell her she was ready to listen.
“We are not screwed.” Sheila narrowed her brown eyes. “And you stop your rare Negative Nancy tirade. I’m the only person who gets to be Negative Nancy in this partnership. This case still hasgolden ticketwritten all over it. I’m going to say this slowly in case all the blood in your forebrain has up and left, but the Child Exploitation and Human Trafficking Task Force is going to be doing cartwheels to have you. When we nail Branigan Kelly and close down his operation, Lily, you’ll get whatever you want. I’m going to miss you like hell when they put me with some other partner, but I tell myself we’ll still work together on the odd case and hang out and talk shop. It’s gonna happen. Listen to Mama on this.”
God, she must be really freaking out to have Sheila put on her cheerleading outfit. “All right, Mama, dialing Negative Nancy back and putting my sunshine self back on,” she tried to joke, flicking her wavy blond hair over her shoulder. “I’m going to miss you too, by the way.”
“I know.” Sheila lightly punched her in the shoulder. “Now, let’s talk about where we are in this case. We know Tara is likely in the wind, which justifies the judge’s decision to let us put a tracker on the car she was driving after we saw her bulk shopping at Costco this morning.”
“But she didn’t take her car, Sheila. Why didn’t she—”
“Calm down, Sunshine. I’m telling you… We just watched her cousin, who’s an officer in the precinct where we know Kelly has cops on his payroll, pick up the kids and bring them to the car we put the tracker on. That, my friend, is manna from heaven. Why? Because we happen to know there’s fifty grand in that black suitcase. The same black suitcase Tara O’Connor was seen taking to and from her three nail salons.”
That had been a day. But Lily still didn’t believe Tara O’Connor was behind this mess. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have removed the cash from the premises…and the Kellys wouldn’t have slashed her tires. Sheila wasn’t convinced—she’d argued that there’d been some kind of dispute, and Tara had moved the cash as a safeguard. Although fifty thousand seemed kinda light to her. With three nail salons, wouldn’t there have been more?
“Your confidential informant told us that money is Branigan Kelly’s dirty money,” Sheila continued, although she didn’t need the reminder. The informant had also told her that it had been laundered through Tara’s nail salons. “We have confirmation that the cash is in Tara’s new SUV in that garage, and Tara’s husband and Janice Brewster disappeared. Enter the new actor today. One of Boston’s finest. Lily, we could collar one of Kelly’s dirty cops—”
“I don’t think he’s dirty, Sheila.” Lily gripped the wheel. “We’ve looked at everyone in his precinct, and he didn’t even make the third cut. Robbie O’Connor’s from a squeaky-clean, toe-the-line proud Irish Catholic family that pays their taxes on time.”
Sheila flicked her hand in the direction of the garage where Lieutenant O’Connor and Tara’s two young children had entered over ten minutes ago. “And yet his cousin and her husband are suspected of laundering money for the mob.”
Lily scanned the parking garage entrance. What was he doing in there with those girls? If the girls hadn’t looked completely comfortable with him, she’d be sick with concern. Instead, he’d been holding Cassidy protectively and walking slowly so Reagan wouldn’t have to run to keep up. Fact was, he’d look downright tender toward those two girls. Bad guys didn’t do that.
“They’ve certainly been in there for a while,” she said, fighting the urge to bite her short, unpainted nails. “You don’t think the Kellys followed him, do you? I know we can see all the cars entering and leaving from this angle, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t go in on foot.”
“I know you’re worried about the kids,” Sheila said, her eyes fixed like a laser to the garage. “I am too. Let’s give it five more minutes before I walk in and look around.”
